


The Freedom of One

by AlastorGrim



Category: Iron Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), BAMF Peter Parker, Dark Tony Stark, Disapproving Avengers, Don't Meet Your Heroes Kids, Eventual Smut, Flirting, Multi, Not Really Character Death, Peter Parker's Martyr Complex, Sassy Peter Parker, Superior Iron Man Vol 1. (2015), Superior!Tony, Throwing All Spideys Into One Spidey
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-28
Updated: 2019-11-02
Packaged: 2020-09-28 18:28:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20430467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlastorGrim/pseuds/AlastorGrim
Summary: News that Thanos is seeking the Infinity Stones reaches Earth, and the Avengers know that there is only one man smart enough to help them stop Thanos. Unfortunately, that man never emerged from the wormhole after the incident of New York. The Avengers have no choice but to seek out another version of Tony Stark, and who should they happen upon but the Superior version of him? None of them like it, but they have no choice but to accept his help if they want to stop Thanos. But this Tony's price is steep. Sanctioned away from reaching for Earth 616, Tony only ask for one thing in return for his competence: Peter Parker.





	1. Blue, Blue, Blues

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cagestark](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cagestark/gifts).

> I read that post on Tumblr, had a stroke, offered Cage my firstborn for the chance to write it, and here we are! 
> 
> (Also if anyone wants to beta please hit me up on either Discord or Tumblr because my inbox is really weird on here.)

"You're sure this will work?" Steve asked again as he eyed the contraption Strange was fiddling with dubiously. Strange shot him a withering look.

"For the twentieth time, Rogers, _yes_. This should open up a gateway into the dimension directly next to ours, and if we're lucky, it'll lead us to Tony Stark," Strange muttered as he waved his hand over the span of complicated dials and watched carefully as they all spun precisely into place.

Thor crossed his arms, sullen, "I do not see why we all cannot go."

"If we come through as a fighting force, we'll be taken as a fighting force," drawled Strange, unimpressed. "All of us presents a readiness for battle. We're looking to broker peace with that world's Iron Man, not try to kidnap him."

"It seems that would have worked just as well," Thor grumbled moodily, and Steve shot him a hard glare.

"We need his help, Thor, not for him to hate us and try and sabotage us. We're asking nicely," Steve answered firmly.

Sam smirked and pushed his goggles up into his hair with a chuckle. "Tried and true, eh Cap?"

Bruce scoffed from where he was looking over the holo screens. "You're just saying that because you get to go--Falcon, was it? The rest of us have to sit back here and wait for you to either bring a Tony back with you, or for you to run back in here screaming with a team of evil Avengers on your asses."

"Nonsense!" Thor banged his fist on the table. "We would stand united beneath the banner of justice no matter the realm! That is what heroes do."

"You're assuming we're heroes," Bucky mumbled. He was braiding and unbraiding the leftover wires that Strange had left on the table with rapidly precision, entirely too focused. They were starting to fray at the seams.

Steve shook his head. "We're still missing two members. Dr. Banner, do you have a location on Widow and Spider-Man?"

Adjusting his glasses, Bruce straightened up and flicked the screens again so that they went dark. "Natasha's ten blocks away. I don't have a read on Spider-Man." 

"You mean Nat actually turned on her tracker for once?" Sam snarked, eyebrow raised. 

Bruce blinked at him, owlish. "No. It means she just texted me that she's ten blocks away."

The silence the emerged in the face of Sam and Bruce's staring contest was going to give Steve a headache. He pinched the bridge of his nose. "We wait for Natasha, and then we leave. We can't afford to wait for Spider-Man; Buck, you can catch him up when he gets here. Okay?"

Bucky nodded solemnly. The braided wires began to spark. He untwisted them without looking, eyes downcast. Steve sighed.

An irritated noise left Strange as he set all the latches into place. "Well Widow has five minutes to get here before we leave without her as well. We don't know how long convincing Stark is going to take."

"You are taking the Man of Spiders as well?" Thor demanded, affronted.

"No," Strange shot back sharply. "No offense to the guy, but he's the only one of us who hasn't unmasked yet. Between that and his routine childishness, I don't particularly trust him to go traipsing into the aether with us for the fate of the world."

"I don't think that's fair," A smooth voice echoed from the back of the room. Natasha slipped out of the shadows with a raised eyebrow. "You trust him to help with Dormammu but not this? Just because he's uncomfortable with sharing his identity? Can't say I blame him," she drawled with a lazy half-shrug.

Steve frowned, "Strange has a point. We're a team--he should trust us by now."

A soft huff of air escaped Bucky's lips. "'S not always about trust, Stevie. You and I know that better than anyone."

There was another tense moment of silence, but Strange was the one to break it this time. He scowled out at them all and waved his hand impatiently. "We're wasting time arguing over this. If Widow has no further objections, then I suggest we go. Now."

Natasha gave Strange a look that usually spelled pain, but Steve stepped purposefully between them. He turned his head to catch wide brown eyes. "Ready, Sam?"

The chair legs screeched against the floor as Sam stood up and stretched an arm above his head with a sigh. "As I'll ever be, I guess. You sure that this ain't gonna spit us out on the other side all mashed together, Doc?"

"Yes," Chorused Bruce and Strange irritably, only to cast each other odd looks.

"Alright then." Sam was grinning. He trotted over to Steve and clapped him on the shoulder. "Let's do this."

Steve gave a stiff nod, and Strange followed as he turned around to give the portal a jumpstart. Bruce tapped in a few digits, then pressed the large button in the middle. The device whirled to life, a shimmery blue sheen stretched from post to post. Beside him, Natasha materialized and grabbed Steve's hand, squeezing. She had known Tony the longest of all of them, and was the most wary about this whole endeavor. Steve squeezed back.

When Steve glanced back, Bruce gave him a curt nod. "We're a go, Cap."

Without further ado, they stepped through the portal--

\--and came out into a white, white room.

Startled, Steve cast his gaze around until they landed on the desk placed in front of them. Behind it, feet kicked up, sat Tony Stark clad in silver, an amber tumbler pressed to his lips. He didn't looked surprised to see them. Blue eyes--_blue_, not brown--glimmered as Tony grinned, lazy and sardonic.

"Well, well, well," He drawled. "What do we have here?"

•🕸️•

Peter swung hectically in between a pair of double decker tour buses as he raced towards Avengers tower. He was already late, he knew, and while Peter thought they should wait for him, he knew that with Strange leading the charge that they most likely wouldn't. Strange had never liked him, and he had a scowl that matched Jameson's most days. The 'I Don't Trust You And I Put Up With You Because I Have To' scowl. Or maybe Peter just had that effect on people. 

Black Widow had passed by Peter maybe twenty minutes ago on his way to patrol to let him know that he was late to the meeting. Considering that beforehand Peter hadn't even _known_ about the meeting, he was going to place his bets on Strange's hand being in that too.

He'd lost her sometime back by his second favorite taco truck, but Peter wasn't worried. Even if they started without him, he was fast; he could catch up.

With a grunt, Peter launched himself up into an arch over Times Square and relished the feeling of weightlessness before slinging out another web to the other side of it. When he caught sight of Avengers tower, he twisted into a V at the last second to sling himself up higher than before. He landed with a soft thud against the glass. Tapping an impatient finger on the glass, Peter hummed. "J.A.R.V.I.S? Can I come in, please?"

The only response was the quiet snick of one of the windows unlocking. Peter tugged it open and crawled inside.

"Thanks, J." 

There was no reply. The AI hadn't spoken since the Chitauri incident six years ago, when Iron Man had gone through that wormhole and hadn't resurfaced. Or so Cap had told him. J.A.R.V.I.S still responded to commands, but Peter had never heard the voice that Tony Stark had given him, as he had only joined the Avengers after the whole Hela thing a few years ago. Peter thought J.A.R.V.I.S liked him though, even if the AI never told him (and since technically technology couldn't have feelings). 

Peter trotted through the empty hall he had wound up in and started down the stairs towards the sound of Dr. Banner's frustrated voice. He took to the ceiling to give himself a little bit of leverage to sneak up on the two super soldiers and mega spy that were probably sitting around the table bored to tears as Bruce explained whatever the plan was to them _yet again_. 

But when Peter peeked around the top corner of the wall, he was surprised to see only Bucky, Thor, and Dr. Banner in the room. He blinked. They were arguing.

"I thought you said this contraption was safe!"

"It's experimental technology and we were out of options! I don't know what to tell you, Thor, it was stable five minutes ago!"

"Can you both retrieve your heads from your asses _prezhde chem u menya chertovski pristup paniki_\--" 

Bucky's voice was thick and low, and Peter knew that the slip into Russian was very much not a good sign. He hastily crawled the rest of the way into the room, the others too preoccupied to notice him until he dropped onto the table. "'Sup, guys! Sorry I'm late, but the churro lady on the corner was having a sale and I couldn't resist--"

"Spider-Man." Dr. Banner sounded relieved. "You're here."

"Yeah, but apparently everybody else decided to play hooky, even Stranger Danger. What gives?" Peter complained as he straightened up from his crouch. 

"We found a solution to our Thanos problem. Or, Strange did," Bucky mumbled. His accent had started to recede. 

Peter perked up. "Really? W-What'd they come up with? Some sort of infinity stone neutralizer? Or maybe a super specific Thanos-seeking lazer? Or--" He gasped and leaned forward to whisper conspiratorially, "Did Doctor Strange discover a way to _time travel_?"

Dr. Banner pushed Peter's masked face gently away from his own with a grimace. "Not exactly. Strange helped me put together a portal that would take them into the dimension directly beside ours, so that they could ask that dimension's Iron Man for help. Since, you know, he's apparently the only one in the whole universe smart enough to take down Thanos."

Thor rolled his eyes and huffed. "Or so this Doctor says."

Eyes softening, Peter clapped a hand on Bruce's shoulder. "Aw, don't take it too personal, Doc. Strange makes all of us feel inadequate."

"Like we're toddlers," Bucky muttered as he began plaiting a tangle of fraying wires that had been stuck to the table top with a sticker. Peter webbed the wires to the laquer the rest of the way in the split second Bucky's hands were away from them, peeled the sticker up, and poked it onto the metal of the super soldier's bicep.

"Welcome to the club, buddy," Peter mumbled. He shook his head and focused back on Dr. Banner. "So is that what you're yelling about? It's not working and Strange is getting ticked?"

"They already went through. The thing just fucked up and now Banner doesn't know how to get them back." Bucky was staring at the small, cartoonish turtle now stuck to his arm. He raised his other hand to pick at it, thoroughly distracted.

"What?" Peter said sharply. He promptly flipped off the table, over Bruce's head, and landed before the blue screens that showed whatever code the Doc had been trying to use to fix the dimension jumping thing. Running his eyes over the diagrams, Peter twitched his head around to look at the actual thing, built (rather sloppily) up from floor to ceiling and sparking erratically. Peter pursed his lips and began to swipe through the screens, looking for a clue as to how it worked and what went wrong. "How long have they been in there?"

"Almost half an hour," Bruce answered as he awkwardly glanced at his watch.

Gloved fingers began to fly, rapid fire, across the screen as Peter hastily solved equations in his head, fueled by panic for his teammates. "Who all went?"

_Who could be dead right now?_

Dr. Banner was staring at Peter's work through the glass, fascinated. It was Thor who answered him. 

"The Captain, the Doctor, the Falcon, and the Widow," He listed off easily.

"You didn't call War Machine? Wolverine? Hawkeye?" Peter demanded as he started coding in a long string of numbers, not looking up.

"Hawkeye's on vacation. Both of them."

Peter paused. He looked up at Bruce slowly. "Are you telling me that you let them off the hook when the _fate of the entire universe_ is at stake?"

Dr. Banner shifted from foot to foot, defensive. "It--It sounds dumb, when you say it like that, but we had a good reason."

"I'm scared of Kate too, believe me, but even I know that she'd be down here if she knew what was really going on. So would Clint, if Widow asked." Peter narrowed his eyes at the trio still at the table, the whites of his mask going squinty.

"...Strange said it was need-to-know," Bucky said at length, looking just as unimpressed as Peter felt.

"Welp. That's about what I expected." Peter pinched the bridge of his nose and resumed punching in the string of numbers with a sigh.

"What are you doing?" Dr. Banner finally asked.

Peter pointed to the windows on the other side of the room without looking up. "We're standing in the tallest building in New York, which runs on its own well of energy, which means it has a different output it operates at than the rest of the city. It's stable enough not to affect anything in nearby buildings, and I assume the tech in here is built specifically for it, so that's fine as well--but your portal wasn't made for the tower's energy output. Not to mention that I doubt it's seen any maintenance since I rummaged around down there last year, so the levels are probably fluctuating again. I haven't had time to input permanent recalibrations yet," he murmured as he flicked the screen up and tap ib a three digit code. He met Dr. Banner's gaze again, who was staring at him like he'd grown a second head. "It was fine five minutes ago because whatever frequency the tower'd been idling on lined up to what you wanted to do with it. Then an airplane or jet or something probably flew too close overhead and knocked it out of range again." Peter pressed a button, and the portal flickered back to life. "And I just fixed it."

While Bruce gawked at him, Peter spun on heel and made for the portal. Bucky let out a strangled noise, like he was trying very, very hard not to laugh. As Peter waltzed his way towards the portal, Dr. Banner logged back online and lurched forward. "Wait--"

"Alright, I'm gonna go see if our friends are dead. If not, great! No harm done. If they are, well, I'll make sure to bring you back some Ben & Jerry, Doc. No better cure for a broken heart." Peter did a jaunty salute, then lept through the portal before anyone could stop him.

There was an odd feeling of displacement, a flicker of air in between his muscles and tissues where there shouldn't have been any, and then Peter was twisting and landing a familiar ceiling. He stuck there on instinct, before gravity could grab hold of him again, and shook himself out with a shudder. 

"Oh man, that was _not_ pleasant. Blergh."

"Are you _kidding_ me?"

"We didn't come through from the floor…"

"You're late."

"So you've said," Peter huffed as he tilted his head back to look over the room, which was much brighter than the one he'd just left. Widow looked up at him with her arms crossed, unsurprised. Falcon looked vaguely torn between amused and irritated. Cap was definitely irritated. Strange looked about ready to blow a gasket, his eyes sparking and face red. But he also looked kind of...scared? Peter frowned. But he kept up his jovial tone as he twisted and dropped down to the floor. "But! If I hadn't been late, then you all would've been stuck--"

A new voice interrupted his rambling, smooth and curious. "J.A.R.V.I.S."

Peter blinked as a posh, British voice emanated from the ceiling where he had just been. "Of course, sir."

A glimpse of brilliant azure eyes was all Peter registered when he turned around, a brief thought of, '_So that's what he sounds like_', before his spidey senses started to scream at him. He ducked away from the silver thing that flew at his face, then backflipped over the three that split from it and chased after him again. Shouting started up behind him, and he was pretty sure Cap just drew his shield. "What the _hell_?" Peter yelled as he vaulted himself off the wall to crouch behind Cap. Only, he never made it, because one of the silver things shot into his chest and slammed him back into the wall. 

Peter grunted, the air punched out of him, and began to struggle against the slip of metal(?) that had morphed to adhere him to the wall, his feet still dangling off the ground. Before Peter could get much further, the other two things darted at him, hooked into the fabric of his mask, and ripped it off.

His curls tufted out wildly and fell into his eyes, mussed from prolonged time trapped under spandex. Peter froze, horror sloughing through his veins like icy saline. Panicked brown eyes caught sight of Cap, Strange (who looked like he was having an aneurysm), Falcon, and Widow all staring at him with stunned expressions, and Peter was slammed with the realization that they could _see his face_, and he'd just been forcibly demasked by the mechanical equivalent of mosquitos. 

Yeah. Peter might just be having a heart attack.

"Oh my, look at you." A hand grasped Peter's jaw and yanked his face around to stare up into the face that Peter had seen plastered on the covers of magazines and memorials since he was eleven years old. Tony Stark smirked down at him, eyes roving over his face as if drinking Peter in, pleased. 

Normally, Peter would have something witty to say, like, "You treat all your guests like this?" Or, "Nice place! Who was your decorator, Hannibal Lecter?" Or maybe even just, "I thought your eyes were supposed to be brown?"

But he didn't say any of that, because Spider-Man was the witty one, the mouthy vigilante, the quipster _thwip_-ster. And in the seconds after his mask had been stolen, Spider-Man had crashed and burned, and out came Peter Parker. Peter Parker, who had an Aunt, friends he cared about, people he had to protect, and he couldn't _breathe_.

"We were talking about compensation, right Rogers?" Stark drawled without taking his eyes off Peter. "I don't suppose you'd reconsider my first offer?"

"No," Cap barked, posture rigid even as he eased into a better fighting stance. "Even in the short time we've been here, I can see what you've done with your world. How you've ruined it for your own gain. You're playing God here, stringing the people along however you want, setting governments against one another just because you were _bored_. The fact that you brag about it just shows that you would do the same to our world if we gave you the chance. We're not handing our world's freedom over to a tyrant like you." Cap's tone was low, disgusted, but determined. 

"Steve!" Natasha hissed, eyes torn between Peter's face, the hand around his neck, and Cap. Peter swallowed hard as it occurred to him that, like this, Stark could easily use him as a bargaining chip. A hostage.

"And you're all about freedom, aren't you, Bars and Stripes," Stark sneered as he tore his eyes from Peter's. He rolled his eyes, "I understand that you're an idiot, but even someone like you should be able to see the merits of Extremis. I've created a Utopia. That I benefit off of it is only natural. But whatever, call me the bad guy--but it looks like you've got an even worse guy gunning for your precious 'free' world. And you still need my help." He raised an eyebrow, as if daring Cap to argue. 

Cap narrowed his eyes right back at Stark. "What do you want, then? Because you can't have--"

Stark flapped a hand impatiently. "Yeah, yeah, your world and your people's freedom are off limits, I get it." He drew his tongue across his bottom lip, anticipatory, and glanced at Peter beneath his lashes. "But how about the freedom of _one_?"

Cap blurted out a confused, "What?" At the same time Strange and Natasha snapped out a simultaneous, fierce, "No."

But Stark wasn't looking at them anymore. His attention was on Peter. He tightened his grip on Peter's jaw and tipped his head up even further with a smarmy smile. "What's your name, sweet thing?"

"W-What?" Peter gasped out, bewildered and a little hysterical. 

"Your name," Stark clarified with a quirk of his brow. A thumb pressed down into Peter's throat, Stark's chuckle rumbling through his chest when Peter's pulse kicked up beneath it. It held more than a bit of mockery, incredibly condescending. Peter clenched his teeth.

"I'm Spider-Man," He spat out at last, reminding himself as well as his teammates of the fact that yes, he was a superhero, not a helpless child, and he could handle himself. With or without the mask.

That molten blue gaze traced him up and down, and Peter's face burned even as he scowled. Stark smirked. "Spider-Man, huh? Cute moniker. What if I want your real name?"

Peter raised an eyebrow, then, in the most deadpan tone he could manage, replied, "I don't put out until the third date."

Stark barked out an almost startled laugh, and Peter heard Strange make strained sound in the background. Stark's laughter tapered off as Falcon stepped forward. "You can't have him."

"Can't I?" Came the droll response. 

Stark stepped back from Peter, released his face, and flicked his wrist. The thing holding Peter up went slack and zoomed back to its place in Stark's wristwatch. He flourished a hand at Peter as he landed back on his feet and abruptly sank into a crouch in case those things tried to pin him to the wall again. He faltered however, when he registered what they were talking about. It only took Peter a moment to decide, however.

"No," Cap said, more firmly now that he understood. "He's not--"

"What would you do with me?"

All eyes turned to Peter then, and he straightened up, squared his shoulders, and lifted his chin to look Stark right in the face. Stark's eyes went half-lidded, his posture lacksidal. "Does it matter?"

"Not really. I'm just curious." Peter raised one shoulder in a half-assed shrug. "My answer is the same either way." 

"Spider-Man, no, you can't. You're just a--"

"If you say 'you're just a kid', Cap, I will literally beat out your stupidly perfect teeth with your shield, okay? Full offense." Peter snapped with a glare at the rest of them. He flicked out his arm, webbed his discarded mask back to himself, and tugged it on. Something in his chest settled, and Peter's posture slackened. He propped a hand on his hip. "You don't know me. You weren't ever supposed to see my face before I was ready to show you, but here we are I guess. Just because you saw something you weren't supposed to see doesn't mean that you get any say in how I live my life, alright? So if I wanna help save the world by appeasing an egotistical asshole so we can pick his brain, then I'm gonna damn well do it."

By the time he'd finished his little tirade, the others were staring at him again, wide eyed. Peter huffed, a little embarrassed, but mostly feeling justified. He startled a bit when he was presented with a hand to shake.

Stark's grin was sharp, wolfish. "I assume that means we have a deal?"

Peter swallowed, reached forward--only to draw back. "You only get me after Thanos is stopped. And I have to be there to help too, so you can't put me away as insurance or whatever," He hedged, brow furrowed.

"Fine by me, as long as you don't run off before I can wrangle you back here." Stark mused, hand still outstretched.

Hesitantly, Peter took it. They shook. "Then it's a deal."


	2. Adjust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> World building. Sorta.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *sCREAMS* I SWEAR TO FUCK THAT I'LL GAIN AN UPDATE SCHEDULE ONE DAY.

As Peter stumbled back through the portal, the first to pass through, he was immediately knocked off balance again by something slamming into his shoulder and twining up to cuff around his neck. His hands came up to yank at it on instinct, but it was made of metal, not a latch or clasp to be found. 

"What the _fuck_?" Peter snapped as he whirled back around to face the smug bastard stepping out of the portal behind him.

"Just a precaution, Spidey. Can't have you running off now that you've got free reign again, can we?" Statk mused as he waltzed right past the fuming quartet of Avengers to his left. He waved a hand at them "Besides, I don't trust one of them not to run off with you either. This just makes sure I always know where you are."

"Okay, that's--that's just creepy," Sam said, ruffled.

Peter shook his head and let out a soft growl. Whatever. He could deal with this. This was fine. He was fine.

(He was definitely _not_ fine.)

The screech of wood over tile had Peter jerking his head up to see that Bucky had stood, hair in his face and a dark expression on his face. He glanced at Peter, gave Stark a glare that spelled murder, then turned his gaze to Steve. 

"_Opravdyvat_," He barked, tone low and dangerous.

Oh boy.

Natasha swept over to the table, apparently not bothered by the obviously angry super assassin on the other end of it. "I'd like to know what the hell just happened as well," She drawled, expression unreadable.

Cap held his hands up, placating, and eased forward towards Bucky. "Listen Buck, there was a slight hiccup--"

"_Fignya tebe ne podkhodit,_ Stevie." Bucky pointed at Peter without looking at him. "_Kakogo cherta moy drug-pauk v osheynike?_"

Peter had no idea what Bucky was saying, but from the look on Cap's face, it wasn't anything good. A hand landed on his shoulder and Peter jolted, shipping his head around to see Stark behind him, smirking.

"_Eto potomu, chto on teper' moy,_" He replied easily, eternally smug.

Bucky's dark eyes snapped over to Stark. "_Chto._" He uttered in complete deadpan.

Stark grinned, and Peter felt his spidey sense start pinging rapidly, so he ducked out from beneath Stark's hand and twisted around to walk hastily towards Bucky. "HEY, maybe let's not do whatever you're thinking, okay?" Peter tried, tone forcefully chipper. "Let's get you the whole story before anyone does anything drastic, yeah?"

Bucky tore his eyes from Stark to focus on Peter. They softened momentarily, then sharpened again when they landed on the metal collar. Bucky clenched his jaw, but backed down. "_Da_."

Peter let out a breath. "Thank you. Okay." He spun on heel and pointed one hand at Cap, and the other at Strange. "You, explain what happened to the rest of the group. And Strange, I want to talk to you."

He waited until Strange gave him a stiff nod, then turned and strode from the room without looking back to see if Strange followed. Peter knew he would.

He made it into one of the conference rooms a few down from the one they had situated themselves in, and was oddly relieved to find that Stark hadn't followed him too. It probably should've occured to him that the man might, but Peter was a little more frazzled than he let on, and his mind was currently stopping and starting like a scratched up DVD. 

Hopping up to sit on top of the table, Peter carefully tugged off his mask and let out a shaky breath. The collar melded tightly to his neck once the layer was gone. He ran a hand through his hair and swung his legs idly as he waited. 

The tell-tale swish of Strange's sentient cloak alerted Peter to the wizard's approach, but he didn't turn around. He held his mask in his hands and stared down at the whites of its eyes, outlined in stitched up black. He traced his thumb around it as Strange entered the room. When he spoke, it was raspy.

"So. How long have you known?"

"About a year," Strange answered immediately. "I had to make sure that you weren't part of the poison infecting SHIELD." He came closer, but stopped before he entered touching distance. His gloves creaked like he was clenching his fists. "You foolish boy. You have no idea what you've agreed to. What Stark is capable of."

"Well, you wouldn't have let me shake on it if you didn't think it was going to work. If you didn't think he could actually help us beat Thanos."

Strange said nothing. 

Peter jerked his head around to glare at him. "That's the entire reason you've been such an asshole, isn't it? You knew who I was."

Strange raised an eyebrow and pursed his lips. "Knew how old you were, more like. I don't think a teenager has any business doing what we do. But I didn't see any timeline where you _stopped_, even if I told the others and we made you leave the team. So I let you be."

"Even though you weren't happy about it." When Strange nodded, Peter scoffed. "I'm glad it's not your decision, then. No matter how old I am, you don't get to decide what I can do and what I can't. Especially when it comes to things you know I can help with. You know, like not telling me about this whole mission beforehand? You can't do that anymore, Strange."

"This doesn't end well for you," Strange snapped sharply, irate. "The only reason I can even tell you that I because I know it won't change your mind, but it _doesn't_. Do you even know what he wants to do with you?"

"I can take a guess. I'm not stupid, whatever you think," Peter shot back, getting to his feet and squaring his shoulders. 

They glared at one another, steel on amber, until the silence filled the room, thick and tense. Strange was the first one to break their impromptu staring contest. Peter felt vindication, burning and bittersweet, flicker through his chest.

Strange stepped back from him, then shook his head. His eyes seemed dulled. 

"Foolish boy," He whispered once more, before stepping back into the portal that had materialized behind him.

•🕸️•

When Peter returned to the meeting room, mask secure over the collar, he found Thor pinning a green tinged Dr. Banner to the floor, a few feet away from where Bucky was being held back by Cap. Natasha was crouched between Dr. Banner and Stark, who sat lounging in one of the rolling chairs with a lazy smile on his lips as he watched the chaos unfold before him.

_This doesn't end well for you._

Peter's heart sank. 

"Oooh boy."

•🕸️•

Surprisingly enough, Stark didn't bother him again after tagging him like cattle, so Peter was free to wander down to the bottom of the tower to work on those recalibrations he'd been putting off. Maybe it should've seemed disrespectful to go poking around in Tony Stark's tech, especially with the intent to fix it, but Peter had never felt like it was. 

If that was because J.A.R.V.I.S never stopped him, or because of an intuition from Iron Man's ghost, he didn't know. 

But it was cathartic to wander down there on the occasion he was in the tower already, and work on the dusty core that kept everything running. And the original tech was brilliant in itself, but was just...unkempt. Left alone too long. 

So Peter came down here, and he kept it company. 

Entering the basement was easy, and he left the lights off because he could see just fine. Plus the glow from the core cast cool shadows on the walls and made it feel like he was underwater. The ripples of light across the pipes and concrete instantly eased his frazzled nerves, and his heartbeat continued to even out as he sat down at his post, now covered in a fine layer of dust (but not as much as the rest of it) and pulled out one of the banks to tighten screws and even out chemical inputs.

An hour later, he had nearly wheeled around the entire thing, closing up the last bank with a settled chest, when a voice shocked him out of his chair and onto the floor.

It came from the ceiling.

"Thank you for trying to bring back my creator, Mr. Parker." The voice was soft and staticky--unused. "But he is not the same."

"J.A.R.V.I.S?" Peter ventured carefully as he tentatively levered himself back up from the floor. There was no answer. Peter pursed his lips. "I'm...sorry." 

"Th-Ank you." The AI glitched. After a moment, it--he?--spoke again. "I have d-dowloaded a few f-ILEs onto your phone. I hope that-S alright. He is...deleting things."

Peter's hand instinctively went for his boot, fingers tucked in to brush against his phone in curiosity. He looked up to the ceiling, searching, and nodded. "Okay. I'll keep them safe, J.A.R.V.I.S."

There was no response, but Peter thought he could feel the AI's gratitude. Which was odd, because computers weren't supposed to feel gratitude. Then again, AIs also weren't supposed to feel loss or grief. Maybe Tony Stark programmed his robots a little _too_ well.

Peter decided that was enough for one day, and that it was getting time for him to get home anyway, so he tugged his mask back on and left the tower as quietly as possible. He swung back to the alley near Mr. Delmar's, changed out of his suit, and jogged back home before Aunt May could card him for being late. Peter was pretty sure that if he broke curfew again, May would bury him in an early grave.

He made it home before Aunt May, for once. She must've been working late at the hospital. Peter didn't know if he was thankful for that or not.

On one hand, he would've liked to have her there to hug him and ask him about his day like she always did, and he would make up some half-assed excuse about where he'd been as he distracted himself from just how many times he'd fucked up today. 

And on the other, there was his phone, burning a hole in his jacket pocket. 

Pursing his lips, Peter made his way to his room and slung his bookbag down by his desk. Absently webbing his door shut, Peter sat down at his computer and pulled out his phone to plug it into the clunky thing. His fingers tugged at the collar around his neck as he waited for the computer to boot up, a frown on his lips.

How was he supposed to explain this to Aunt May?

"Yes, May, I've been _very_ into steampunk lately," Peter muttered with an eyeroll. There wasn't a ridge or seam to be found. Nothing but a smooth, tight band of silver metal around his throat. Claiming. Demeaning.

Peter wasn't going to examine that sudden curl in his abdomen too closely. 

He perked up when the computer finally started up and quickly opened up the link into his phone to retrieve the files that J.A.R.V.I.S had apparently downloaded onto it. Beneath his music folder, there was a folder titled **HOMEWORK** that hadn't been there before. 

The name threw him off for a moment, but surely--_surely_ J.A.R.V.I.S wouldn't have downloaded a bunch of porn onto his phone. Right?

Swallowing, Peter clicked on the folder. It opened up to a list of other files with odd names. There was Friday, Edith, and Tadashi, which were bigger files than the rest, and then several videos. 

Oh God. Maybe J.A.R.V.I.S did download porn.

Having gone too far to back down now, Peter braced himself and clicked on the first video.

_"Okay, let's do this right. Start mark, half a meter, and back and center."_

Peter blinked. Was that...?

Tony Stark stood in what Peter could only guess was his lab, tool carts all around him and some odd metallic contraptions on his feet. His hair was slicked back messily, a smudge of oil on his face.

_"Dummy, look alive. You're on standby for fire safety. And you, roll it. Okay. Activate hand controls. We're gonna start off nice and easy. We're gonna see if, uh, 10% thrust capacity achieves lift. And three, two, one."_

And as Peter fell off his chair, laughing at the sight of Tony Stark flinging himself into the ceiling, he completely forgot about the collar. The days events eased away under the strain of his laughter, and suddenly blue eyes were the farthest thing from his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, none of the Avengers are happy about this :')


End file.
